


A Case of Sartorial Impropriety

by chibinocho



Category: A Charm of Magpies Series - K. J. Charles, Society of Gentlemen - K. J. Charles
Genre: Class Issues, Established Relationship, M/M, Tailoring, Wedding Planning, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibinocho/pseuds/chibinocho
Summary: The time-travelling tailors are called upon by Lord Crane to fulfil a rather interesting order.
Relationships: Cheney/Hawkes (A Charm of Magpies), Frank Merrick/Jenny Saint, Stephen Day/Lucien Vaudrey
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4
Collections: Hawkes and Cheney Fiction Collection





	A Case of Sartorial Impropriety

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't resist doing more for this collection and had some fun with it. For those who require explanation of this - please check out the other fics in the collection

The order had been delivered by a paid courier which was rare as usually any orders from Lord Crane would be bought in by Merrick who would simply pass by and drop in a hastily scribbled note and stop for a chat. Even more rare was that the order had arrived sealed in a thick envelope with Crane's distinct imprint on the heavy wax seal and been written on creamy thick linen paper that unfolded itself in Hawkes' hands as if offended at having been folded. The letter then revealed official crested paper with the Crane family heraldry on it. 

"Christ that's fancy." He said, sliding a finger over the seal and looking at the contents more closely.

Cheney was at the large mahogany cutting table, deeply focused on his work with tousled dark waves bobbing. He had already finished cutting the pieces from the large expensive bolts of blue and silver damask which were now nearly arranged ready for assembly. He was now working with a particularly fine piece of ivy-patterned silk that was to line a jacket for their newest friend Saul Lazenby at Blue and cutting the panels ready for sewing, taking care to match the pattern carefully so the seams would be almost invisible. The scissors were skipping merrily over tiny moments of time so quickly that the flashing blades were seeming to move on their own. He then suddenly ceased his cutting at Hawkes' quiet exclamation of surprise, the large scissors falling with a loud metallic clatter.

"What is that?"

Hawkes looked thoughtful.

"Lord Crane's monthly order." He waved the paper like a pennant. "It's very official. Itemised and everything."

Cheney carefully folded the silk panels, wrapping them in a length of cotton muslin, then stripped off his cotton gloves and came over, ducking under Hawkes' arm and interposing himself between Hawkes and the letter. This forced Hawkes to not only show him the letter but also put his arms around Cheney to do it in an awkward but very welcome embrace. That compact muscular body was always so deliciously warm and yielding in his arms and Hawkes welcomed the closeness. He buried his nose into Cheney's hair inhaling his familiar scent of lavender and cedarwood..

Cheney shivered at the touch but read aloud.

"So his Lordship wants three jackets in charcoal with pinstriped trousers and top hats, with gloves. All matching but with waistcoats of varying shades." He scanned the letter further. "Ah ... to be fitted for Lucien Vaudrey, Lord Crane, Mr Stephen Day and Mr Frank Merrick... That's wedding attire that is."

Hawkes frowned, humming into Cheney's hair.

"Wedding?" he queried.

"Yeah, it's all matching with silk top hats and pinstripes. Definitely for a wedding." Cheney frowned at the order. "Wait. Wait. Surely Crane isn't the marriage type? What about Mr Day?"

They exchanged glances. They both knew what Mr Day was to Lord Crane, they would have had to be blind to miss the exchanged looks between them and the blazing desire in their eyes as each one was fitted. Even more so since the last fitting only a fortnight ago, which had seen them sporting clearly matching rings, And so the thought of Lord Crane getting married at this point was bizarre.

Hawkes released his lover and went over to the drawers to check how much they had of the fine charcoal worsted they had in stock.

"Maybe it's an arranged marriage. You know, lots of society types do it. They aren't really together but it's all for show." he said thoughtfully, drawing out an immaculately folded bolt with a wave of cedarwood and resting it on the end of the cutting table.

"I doubt either Lord Crane or Mr Day would be in favour of that." Replied Cheney thoughtfully, coming over to join him at the table and putting the letter down before immediately picking it up again. "Wait, there's more …" He turned over and read the final section, his dark brows raising in surprise. "He also wants a … wedding dress …"

Hawkes went so still whilst holding a large bolt of fine white lawn he looked like a display dummy.

"A what?"

"A wedding dress. It says very clearly: a wedding dress for one Jenny Saint." Cheney waved the letter again - with his dark brown waves falling askew - as if suggesting Hawkes looked for himself.

"But we're tailors." Hawkes said slowly, stating the obvious, still holding his bundle of fabric. "We do men's tailoring. Suits, jackets, waistcoats. We don't do dresses. We would have to take measurements, it would be highly improper."

Cheney looked at the letter again as if making sure.

"It says one wedding dress. To be made and fitted by us. No other information on colour or style, just a wedding dress and there's a consultation appointment tomorrow … at ten o'clock unless we have any objections and to send a confirmation upon receipt of this letter by messenger, all expenses covered… I suppose we could wear blindfolds?"

Hawkes frowned. They never had any objections when it came to Lord Crane and his orders as after all it was his custom that paid their exceedingly extravagant fabric bill. But measuring, dressing and fitting a woman inside their establishment? If word got out ... He then looked at the large pile of cut damask on the enormous cutting table, the astronomical bill for those bolts of fabric was due at the end of the month.

"What about the pink order? For Norreys and Vane? We can't do those coats in a single night."

Cheney's eyes practically sparkled with inspiration and Hawkes' heart gave a thump of longing.

"Can't we?"

Right on the strike of ten the next day there was the clattering ring of the bell over the door and Hawkes and Cheney were oblivious. They were both down to their shirtsleeves, ties and collars removed and clustered around two mannequin figures, which were sporting the complementary nip-waisted frock coats. One was a light silvery grey with deep blue detailing and lapis buttons whereas the other was a deep blue with identical detailing in silver and gilt buttons. It was the rapid order for Julius Norreys and Harry Vane for an exclusive soiree and both tailors had worked in shifts for most of the night to get the orders complete in time knowing that a lavish amount of money was being spent on these outfits. Now close to completion, the scene was a hive of activity with Hawkes working along the seam stitches of one coat, moving continuously over the lines of the jacket like a dancer using both hands to control two needles. Cheney was working through the embellishments on the other, weaving and ducking under the taller Hawkes and using his time ability to skip through the work, which left the air positively crackling around them as they tugged and teased the ether into doing their bidding. They barely noticed the bell.

Suddenly there was a cough and both men jerked away, equipment scattering in all directions. Hawkes instinctively swung out a protective arm as Cheney stumbled and reeled him in, holding him close before he could fall.

"Oww shit!" Exclaimed Cheney as he sucked at the dot of blood on his hand from a flying needle and then he spotted the two figures in the doorway. He immediately broke away from Hawkes and brushed the filaments of thread and fabric from his trousers. "Oh Christ, I am sorry, sir."

"Bad time? I thought the letter had specified ten o'clock?"

The diminutive figure of Stephen Day was framed in the doorway, morning sunlight making his reddish hair shine with an almost ethereal glow. He was accompanied by a young boy who was clearly skulking behind him, determined not to be seen. However, Day stepped slightly to the side and, upon closer inspection, the boy turned out to be a petite and slim young woman with pale blond hair and a heavily defensive expression.

Hawkes recovered himself first, stepping forward while Cheney gathered up the scattered needles and threads.

"Welcome Mr Day and our apologies for forgetting and for our state of undress." He looked at the coats on the mannequins. He was relieved to see no damage done and they were practically complete. "We were trying to fulfil an order quickly and forgot the time."

Stephen Day stepped fully into the shop and actually looked admiringly at the coats.

"For a good cause I reckon." He eyed up the coats. "I imagine they will cost a fair amount for your clients." He raised an eyebrow. again "Regency clients?"

Hawkes flushed - embarrassed that Mr Day clearly knew their secret - but Cheney nodded with a cheerful sense of pride.

"Yes. Regular customers with a special order. We always try to fulfil any requests for our most valued clients." At this Cheney's eyes roved over the glaring figure of the young woman beside him. "And speaking of such things, pleased to make your acquaintance, I am Joshua Cheney and this is William Hawkes." He held out his arms to take their coats and Mr Day's hat.

"Saint. Jenny Saint." Responded the woman shortly, East End thick in her accent and her tone clearly belligerent.

“Pleased to meet you, Miss Saint.” said Cheney gently. “I believe congratulations are in order?” He glanced from Miss Saint to Mr Day whose responding cough was somewhere between polite and strangulated.

“Ah, yes I understand there may be some explanation required as Lu-ahem-Lord Crane wasn’t not forthcoming on his order.” he shook his head as if world-weary. “Absolutely fastidious about his trading and accounts but cannot make it clear on a very official and very identifiable letter who is being married to who.” he shook his head and gestured into the air. “Miss Saint is going to marry Mr Merrick.” Stephen Day’s smile was both warm and yet incredibly relieved at Hawkes’ nod of understanding.

“Well we did wonder.” said Cheney before suddenly clapping a hand over his mouth and flushing red. “Oh Christ I did not mean to say that, I am so sorry.” He looked pleadingly at Hawkes for assistance, dark eyes ablaze with worry. Instinctively, Hawkes moved closer to him, ready to protect him. 

Stephen Day’s tawny eyes turned cold and his entire demeanor was suddenly on edge, however he had suddenly caught the intimate look passed between the two tailors and looked thoughtful, like he was realising something. He caught Hawkes’ eye and raised an eyebrow in query, Hawkes inclined his head in an affirmative of the unspoken question and Stephen Day visibly relaxed.

“No offence taken.” he said, laughing gently.

Hawkes stepped forward.

“So, Miss Saint will be requiring a wedding dress?” he asked and turned to the young woman who was immediately on her guard, eyes narrowed. “Not that we do not want to do it - it is an honour - but wouldn’t you receive more … appropriate service at a dressmaker or from a seamstress? We can recommend some excellent establishments…”

Stephen looked uncomfortable but then Miss Saint launched forward, suddenly bursting into speech like she had been keeping it locked down for too long.

"I don't wanna go to some of those dead posh places though! They wouldn't let types like me in through the door anyway so I was just gonna wear what I already had. But his Lordship then says he is gonna buy me a decent wedding dress and he has already bought several dresses where he has chosen everything … an' I’m not saying it ain't all pretty coz it’s damn nice stuff but y'know." She flushed. "And Frank says I could wear whatever I want for it, even a sack an' he wouldn't care so I tried to go but I just …" her words then failed and she stared at the floor.

Cheney then stepped forward, his expression gentle and kind.

"... You weren’t treated very well and would like to be fitted for something you have chosen for yourself without anyone judging you or thinking it's wrong?" He asked softly. Jenny Saint's pale blue eyes looked up in surprise and Hawkes saw Mr Day's face brighten in interest and curiosity. Hawkes then caught Mr Day’s eyes and dipped his head in a further nod that he hoped would convey the message: _ leave it to him. _

Saint looked brighter.

"... Well … yeah. I hate all those puffs, lacy ribbony ruffs and all those fluff-skirt things - gawd, some of those ladies look like bloody cakes! An’ you can't move in those stays. I ain't never bin that kinda person but they all wan’ed to do that, make me somethin’ I ain’t.." Her accent plunged her right into the gutter and Stephen shook his head in resolution but Cheney looked thrilled. He clapped his hands.

"Well that's quite simply wonderful." Saint gave him a dark look which suggested she thought he was being sarcastic but Cheney's excited production of his paper, pencils and pens from a drawer in the tables suggested otherwise. "A chance to design my first wedding dress and for a young woman who has a point of view and wants none of those ridiculous fripperies. This is wonderful. Come, sit with me and let's get some sketches done."

Mr Day's expression shifted abruptly from embarrassed to bemused as Jenny Saint lit up like a chandelier and practically leapt forward to accept Cheney's proffered arm. He escorted her to the oversized leather settee by the counter as if she was a court lady he was leading into a dance and they fell immediately into excited discussion.

Seeing Mr Day looking like a spare part, Hawkes stepped forward with his most solicitous expression and the tea tray.

"I think this time you probably will have a cup of tea, sir?"

Mr Day sagged in relief and nodded.

"Yes. Tea. Tea would be good. It's probably far too early for something stronger."

Hawkes slipped a silver hip flask from his waistcoat pocket and gestured at the cups. A grin split Mr Day's face revealing a snag tooth.

"Now I know why Lord Crane favours your establishment."

Hawkes gave a mock-scathing look as he added a generous measure of whisky to each cup before pouring the tea and pulling two high stools to the cutting table.

"I am shocked and insulted on behalf of my establishment that you believe we serve whisky in the tea of all our customers." He responded drily, handing over the cup but with a knowing smile. “... Especially as Lord Crane prefers coffee with brandy.”

Mr Day drank with an expression of relief, still looking uncomfortable but with a rapidly softening expression as he watched the two on the settee still in animated discussion. Hawkes had to ask.

"I must confess, sir, I am surprised to see you here instead of Lord Crane. Forgive me, but I was under the impression you found purchasing garments to be the last thing you found entertaining."

Mr Day cast a further eye at the figures of Cheney and Miss Saint who were now bent over the scattered paper on the low table before them which were in the process of revealing a slim tailored shape in what looked like tulle and silk with narrow cut sleeves and minimal ruffles and frills. It was clean, modest and not excessively feminine. It was perfect and - from Miss Saint's animated expression and lively discussion - she obviously approved of the design. Hawkes felt a pulse of affection for Cheney's honest and open attention to the lady. He had always so admired his partner's ability to put people at their ease. He saw Mr Day looking fondly too.

"As you heard, Miss Saint is to be married to Mr Merrick." Said Mr Day. "Of course, Lord Crane is all too eager to make everything look as sartorially elegant as possible and to not spare any expense for his closest friend’s wedding. However, Miss Saint is … not one for fashions … and found the visits to the seamstress … distressing." Mr Day hid his dark expression behind his teacup which Hawkes took to mean the experience was somewhere between 'rage' and 'ran a mile'. "I gather also that she wasn't treated terribly kindly by the last establishment and to save Mr Merrick from visiting said seamstress with a cosh, Lord Crane suggested she come here. She agreed although only if it was with me not him for reasons I'm sure you don't need me to tell you."

Hawkes nodded once. Lord Crane, whilst a fantastic client and pleasure to dress, could quite easily take over a fitting and design. For Mr Day - who couldn't care less about what he wore and submitted to fittings, designs and sudden changes of ideas with an air of long suffering tolerance - this was not an issue but for Miss Jenny Saint it was a huge problem.

Mr Day continued, twirling the teaspoon between his fingers, letting the metal stretch and elongate into an elaborate spiral. He seemed to have shed a lot of his standoffishness from previous appointments, possibly due to Hawkes and Cheney's careful control of their powers and his realisation that they - like himself and Lord Crane - were also lovers. 

And thank god they were lovers as Cheney - who had never considered any interes tin the fairer sex - now had Miss Saint stood up and was passing a tape measure around her body, making notes of numbers as he did so. In any other establishment and in any other situation, a young man taking a lady’s intimate measurements would be the absolute height of impropriety and could ruin everyone’s reputations both professional and personal.

“Just as well our blinds are thickly woven.” said Hawkes dryly. “I wouldn’t want this scene to be known. We are a respected business after all.”

Mr Day’s laugh was just as sardonic.

"No need to talk to me about impropriety. To society at large I am a bachelor, yet here I am playing chaperone and lady's maid to an unmarried girl …" he squashed the spiral of his teaspoon and created a series of loops in the metal to form a flower shape. "Even so, this was clearly the right decision.” his face softened as he looked at Miss Saint who was allowing Cheney to measure her insight leg with nary a whit of disapproval. “This is the happiest I have seen Saint since she put on the ring. And for that the entire Crane household - including myself - thanks you most sincerely."

"We always aim to please, Mr Day." Said Hawkes calmly, watching the teaspoon begin to unfurl itself back into it's expected shape. He found himself almost disappointed as it was placed gently back on the saucer.

At that, Jenny Saint came bounding over, her booted feet were barely touching the floor.

"Alright Mr D, all done, Mr Cheney says he can get the dress done within a coupla weeks and then I can come back for a proper fitting. He said he's gonna wear a blindfold to do the close fitting so it's all proper but I told him not to bother as I know he ain't got no interest in me." She gave a sly wink at Hawkes who flushed scarlet. "He's also gonna make me some proper fitting trousers in my proper right size so I don't have to keep using belts and pins to hold 'em up." She was bouncing on her toes now, feet almost threatening to leave the floor fully. "In fact if his lordship wants to get me any more of these ridiculous clothes then these guys are gonna have to make 'em. None of that other flouncy stuff. No dressmakers."

Stephen Day sighed audibly but his expression was happy. He hopped off the stool and went to pull on his greatcoat and hat, holding out Miss Saint's own coat, a rather threadbare mens-or-probably-boys tweed that had been badly taken in to fit her slender frame. Hawkes cast an eye over it and looked at Cheney who nodded. Now they had her measurements, they could easily run up a new coat for her too.

Stephen's voice broke the silence.

"Well thank you both ... if only all aspects of wedding planning proved this easy." He said with a regretful tone. He then proffered his arm in an obviously jokey way to Miss Saint who waved jauntily and Hawkes escorted them from the shop with a smile and nod of politeness.

Once the two practitioners had departed fully and the door closed, Cheney quickly pulled the door curtain across and turned the sign. He then turned and - before he could say anything - Hawkes seized his partner and pulled him close for a deeply passionate kiss. Cheney yielded beautifully with a gasping moan, seizing a handful of Hawkes hair to haul him closer.

"What caused this?" He asked, breaking the kiss to ask breathlessly. "Not that I object of course."

"You are wonderful." Said Hawkes, his own breathing harsh and ragged. "Kind, clever and I am so glad you are utterly mine." He then sighed and released his lover. "Now, let's finish those coats for Mr Norreys before we miss an order and are reduced to penury for the price of that bloody damask."


End file.
